Memories
by Shadows-Kiss-The-Weak
Summary: The costs of battle are high, we know that.  And this time a beautiful young woman lies inside a coffin.  But through her death, can two others find love?  One-shot.


She glanced toward the sunset, away from him, and watched the day fade into night. Sobs built up in her chest but never escaped. She couldn't cry. A normal person would be crying. If she'd been a normal best friend, if the circumstances were just slightly different, she'd be crying and screaming and clinging to the body and…well, mourning the way a girl in her position should. Her best friend was gone, after all. But instead, she just felt…empty. Numb. Like a gaping hole had been cut into her chest. After a long pause, she finally spoke. "I just…I can't believe she's gone."

The dark-haired man across from her glanced away. He didn't know the girl. He'd simply come out of respect. He'd heard of her, sure – who hadn't? But he hadn't known her, and here was this girl, the dead girl's best friend, here she was obviously upset, and what comfort did he have to offer? "I'm sorry," he murmured. It was the best he could do.

She swallowed hard. Invisible hands painfully constricted her throat, and still no tears fell. Why couldn't she cry? Why couldn't she cry even when her best friend was laying there in that coffin, still and unmoving? "I…" She shook her head hard, tried to shake away the hands tight around her throat. But they didn't go away. She managed a wry smile and threw it halfheartedly toward the dark-haired man. "I'm sure everyone here is sorry for me. But all that pity can't bring her back, now can it?"

This time his words were soft, understanding. "I know. I know how you feel." Memories danced through his mind, memories from long ago…from when he was little. Pleasant ones. And then the others, the final ones, the ones of men in black suits bursting through the doors of his home, barking orders. The ones of his parents, eyes a feral red and fangs bared, leaping at the men. And the ones of his beautiful aunt's face swollen and purple and bloody…of his mother's teeth dripping with that blood.

The girl's eyes widened as she remembered. "Oh God. You do know."

"Yes," he said wryly. "I do know a few things."

"I…" She glanced away again. Robotically, she stood and moved toward the coffin. She didn't want to. But she couldn't seem to make her feet stop, couldn't make her legs take her away from the coffin. She didn't want to see it. It was the last thing she needed. But she couldn't make herself stop.

Closer, ever closer she drew until she was looking down at her best friend lying still and pale in the casket. Her eyes were closed, her soft dark hair spilling out around her and framing her unnaturally white face. She'd never been this pale. Never. Not as pale as a Strigoi…but close. The makeup hid most of the wounds from the battle, but there was one it couldn't hide: the long, swollen slash down the side of her cheek. _She got that defending me, _the girl standing over her thought. And then the tears came, rising up in her, jerking her throat and constricting it, flowing warm and wet over her cheeks. She cried. She cried for her best friend, cried for her suffering, cried for the pain of all the others in the room that had loved her. Tears fell from her face and splashed gently onto the lifeless cheek of her best friend…almost as if the dead girl were crying too.

Strong arms wrapped around her and pulled her close. Through her tears, she saw two crystal-blue eyes watching her with sympathy. He knew how she felt. He knew.

"Rose," she whispered. "Oh God, Rose."

"Shh," he murmured.

She never expected him to comfort her. He was always in the shadows…always watching, always listening, but no one ever paid him any mind. She'd never known him, never known this side of him.

He'd never expected himself to comfort her either. He noticed now the way the sunset lit up her pale blonde hair, the fragility of her body cradled against his. "Lissa," he said softly, "maybe you shouldn't be here."

Another sob shook her willowy frame, so violently he barely felt the nod against his chest.

Gently, so gently, he took her hand and led her away from Rose's coffin.

Rose's last words drifted through Lissa's mind for the hundredth time.

_Stay safe. Stay happy and safe. I'll always be there, Liss, don't let my death be in vain._

_A/N: Okay, so I may have had an ulterior motive for writing this. I need everyone who read this to try to answer me if you can. The only way I could think of to get myself heard was to publish, so here's my question:_

_There's a girl on Fanfiction. Her name starts with D. She has a story that's basically a harsh guide to writing good fanfiction, and another story where a girl – I think her name is Alice or something like that – thinks she's a good writer and so publishes on Fanfiction, where she's dropped into the turbulent hidden world. D makes an appearance as "Honest Reviewer." This author is known for reviewing harshly and honestly. If anyone out there knows her or has heard of her, PLEASE review or PM me her name or the name of one of her stories. I need to find her. Thanks._

_-Skylar_

l always be there, Lissa. don'. a' and led her away from Rose't the nod against his chest.

ll and wet over her cheeks. e, barki


End file.
